Run Away
by ThatOneJay123
Summary: Five, a refugee from a torn apart planet, reaches out to Arthur Weasley for help. Turns out, Arthur Weasley isn't a bumbling idiot and knows a lot more from his exploration into Muggle culture. No need to read Lorien Legacies. Set in Harry Potter's fourth year. Rated T for violence later on. OC Five
1. Chapter 1: M's Letter

**I do not own Harry Potter or Lorien Legacies**

Everyone these days seems to have so much advice for people. Do your homework early. Don't run in the street. Make sure you marry the right person. Follow your passion. Be realistic. For me, the most advice I've been given was, "stay out of sight," "run away at a slight discomfort of getting caught," and "don't let them know who you are."

Mr. Weasley sat at his desk like usual at the Ministry of Magic located in Britain. Overall, the day had been quite banal. He attended some meetings. He did some paperwork. He stared at a picture of his family sitting neatly on his disorganized desk. Tucked inside the picture was his last correspondence with M. It was sent about 10 years ago. M was not a lover of any sort; No, Arthur James Weasley would never cheat on his beloved wife. Although, he had never quite informed anyone about M's existence, and it should remain that way. Besides, M and her charge could be dead at this very moment. In fact, it was very likely.

He had met M through a mutual friend, Pittacus. Pittacus was interesting. They had met on an online discussion board while he was looking at a "computer" where he "searched up" information on extraterrestrial life forms; He was interested in that stuff back when he was recently graduated from Hogwarts. Eventually, he met Pittacus in person. Pittacus was interesting. The man was tall, handsome, and had a aura of power around him. He spoke with some kind of unfathomable authority, and it was weird to meet a "nerd" who acted this way. "Nerds" in muggle slang were suppose to be ugly. Pittacus was not. After meetings more than a couple of times to discuss alien life, Pittacus finally came out.

"I know you're not a regular person, Arthur," Pittacus confronted one day at an ordinary, muggle coffee shop, "but I'm not either." He continued to describe who he really was. Pittacus himself was not from Earth, rather a planet called, Lorien. That planet was soon to be attacked by an enemy race, the Mogadorians, and Pittacus doubted the Loriens could defend themselves. Therefore, Pittacus had decided to form a plan b.

That plan b involved people like Mr. Weasley who had a passion for space.

Mr. Weasley confessed that he was a wizard, and explained some important details about the wizarding world, to Pittacus. It did not deter Mr. Weasley's involvement with plan b.

Pittacus' plan b was fairly simple. There would be people on Earth, referred to as the greeters, that would help the refugees assimilate and blend in. There would be 18 people in total that would need help. 9 adults and 9 kids. Each kid was assigned to an adult, their mentor to help them survive and hone in on their legacies, special abilities that allowed people to breath underwater, become steel, and fly. These legacies would only develop in the kids' teen years, so it was imperative that they were kept safe until the moment they were able to fight, as Pittacus assumed that the Mogadorians would immediately start hunting the kids down when they arrived to Earth. Pittacus had told Mr. Weasley that each kid's name would be a number. As extra precaution, the elders of their planet would use the little resources left to cast a binding spell that would allow the kids immunity from death, unless the previous kid before them died or they reunited.

One of those greeters ended up being Mr. Weasley. He understood at the time that there could be consequences if the Mogadorians ever found him out, but he had no kids at that point in his life. Of course, Molly was a strong woman who could fight and defend for herself. Mr. Weasley took the risk and years later they arrived, a little after the birth of their 4th and 5th sons.

That was when he met Magdalene; She was one of the mentors. Mr. Weasley kept in contact with her, even after they departed, but eventually she stopped writing back, and owls couldn't even find her. In their letters, Magdalene would be called M, and Mr. Weasley would be called W. Still, life went on without M and her charge.

Mr. Weasley looked at the picture sitting on his desk. He reached for it to read over the letter again. It read:

W,

Thank you for all your help. It's really meant a lot. I understand your offer, but I hope it may never come to that. I wouldn't want to put your family at risk. In the case of emergency though, I will make sure to give my child the information to reach you. Speaking of which, congrats on your recent child, R. It's a lovely name. Hope to write to you soon!

-M

It was short, but M was usually just that and to the point. The letter he sent prior was casual talk, about the family, his life, and the wizarding world's happenings. He also offered to figure something out if they needed assistance in the case of an emergency. Looking back at the letter 14 years later, he still thinks about M and her charge, someone who could be getting their legacies or just be dead somewhere, killed by a Mogadorian.

He sighed. Hero complex or not, Mr. Weasley had to finish this report about the increase in underage magic, so Mr. Weasley went back to work.

The burrow was a lively place. Everyone within the house rushed around trying to get last minute clothing items packed for the Quidditch World Cup, but through the chaos flew in a barn-owl that had a letter attached. Despite the apparent chaos, the family took note of the letter, and once Arthur had removed it, the owl flew off into the evening sky. He read it, expecting some late notice work at the ministry, but it was far from his prediction. Instead, scrawny handwriting wrote a merely two sentences on the letter:

W,

I need your help. I should be at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

-M

**_Author's Note: _I really hope you've enjoyed this chapter. This fanfiction idea has been on the back of my head for a long time, and I've finally decided to start putting it on Google Docs. Feel free to tell me if you like it or have any ideas/predictions you might have for the future chapters! I love reader interaction!****Also, I haven't read Harry Potter in forever, so people definetly seem out of character, like Arthur Weasley, but some of those changes are necessary as well.****I do not own Harry Potter or Lorien Legacies**


	2. Chapter 2: Pity

**Lorien Legacies and Harry Potter do not belong to me.**

\--=--

I stood in front of some random wall in Europe. It was a crumbly, old brick wall. Honestly, I think Magdalene was joking me when she told me about this place, but I truly have nowhere else to go. I truly was alone.

While in my imprisonment, I was able to read a book. I don't recall it's name, but the one thing that's really stuck with me throughout the past 24 hours or so is a mantra the book repeated constantly, "If you don't know where you're going, you'll never know when you get there." That's the truth alright. I had no idea where I was or where I was going. I didn't know if I was at the right place, but I sure hoped I did. Hope. Hope is an important word. I guess that's what kept me going. Speaking of hope, I saw a woman walking towards the wall where I was standing. Then, I took a leap of faith and so eloquently said, "Hey, ummm… I broke my wand."

She laughed, "Aww, I understand, honey." The woman then proceeded to take out a stick and tapped it around on the bricks until they seperated. I would've been shocked at that point, but I was already too exhausted. I wondered if she was too distracted to notice the state that I was in or if it was a common occurrence that some teenager would show up to this entrance barefoot, in torn synthetic pants, with a blood stained grey tee-shirt, and a sock tied around their arm in an attempt to stop them from bleeding out.

After crossing the threshold, still looking like a mess, the woman looked back at me and handed me a few coins. I had no idea how much they were worth, but she said, "Here, honey, take these. It should be enough to get you a new wand." The woman then left to go do whatever people do.

I mumbled a thanks in response and looked around. It's been one of my first experiences in the outside world since 10 years ago. Looking up into the grey sky, I felt like crying. Crying from relief, despair, frustration, confusion, yeah, for all of those reasons. I didn't cry. Not yet.

Magdalene told me that if I was to ever try and contact our original greeter for help, I would have to go to this alley, buy an owl, and send a letter to him using the owl. It was an absurd thought. I still went through with it.

The street was made of grey, uneven bricks, but even with their imperfection, it was amazing to see. I looked around for some pet shop to buy an owl from and plotted my course. The street filled with shops wasn't too crowded, so I was content looking at the ground too not get overwhelmed and wake up from this reality.

I was nearing the store when I ran into someone. They wore black shoes and some robes, typical wizard attire I assumed. The man cleared his throat, probably waiting for an apology. I looked up. He had greasy hair, but I guess I couldn't really comment too much on his cleanliness when I looked how I looked. I muttered an apology and walked past him.

The store was overwhelming. Owls were screeching and the whole place was some kind of zoo, which made sense. I looked at the owls for a couple of seconds before finding the cheapest one. I still didn't know how much money the woman had given me. I went up to the counter and said that I would like to purchase the owl, and the transaction occurred. I didn't get any change back. I wonder if I didn't have enough money, and rather the store keeper took pity on me and just went ahead and sold it anyways. I left their store and thanked them.

Leaving the store, I saw that greasy haired man walk into some bookstore and died inside remembering the whole running into him incident. I really shouldn't care though. I walked around for a bit before finding some ice cream parlor, and I decided to sit down with the owl outside the shop. Then, I planned a next bit of action. I went into the store and asked for some paper and pen. Once again, I think the person working that store pitied me, so she handed me a piece of paper and a quill with ink. I scratched out some kind of writing to W. Hopefully he would understand the message, then I immediately sent the owl on their way.

\--=--**I do not own Harry Potter or Lorien Legacies.****_Author's note: _Thank you so much for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3: My Name is

**Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you to SupergodzillaSailorCosmos for the review and like! I'm glad you find it interesting, and I hope to publish every Saturday with occasional updates during the week from here on out. I would also like to thank Anrieth for following. Now, onto the story…**

Soon after Mr. Weasley got the letter, he announced to his household that he would be back, but there was an emergency he would have to attend to. None of his children seemed to mind, and his wife gave him a prompt kiss before he apparated to Diagon Alley. He looked around and saw me in muggle clothing sitting at a table outside of an ice cream parlor, nearby flew my owl. I was close to passing out. I looked at him and whispered, "Are you W?"

Mr. Weasley nodded. "You must be her kid."

I am hardly a kid, but I guess he didn't know what to call me. Magdalene must have not shared my name in case he was ever questioned or wanted to rat us out. I decided to correct him. "My name is Five," I quietly said, "but yes, I was under her supervision." He nodded.

"I'm assuming she's…" he trailed off.

"Dead," I answered solemnly to his unspoken question, fighting back the tears that begged to be released.

He apologized, "I'm sorry for asking. Look, we can talk about this later. I need to fill you in on your cover." I nodded. Mr. Weasley proceed to inform me about his family. He had five sons and one daughter. I am to act like his sister's daughter. She died in childbirth, and the death was shrouded in enough mystery that he could just claim I was that daughter, my dad, who moved to America in grief, recently passed, so I reached out to my uncle, Arthur Weasley. From there, we could discuss what I should do. After a bit of discussing from both of us, we went back to his family's home, the Burrow.

By the time we arrived at the Burrow, it was nearing nighttime. Molly Weasley came rushing up to us, looked at the poor state I was in, demanded I take a shower, and borrow some of Ginny's old clothes. I left, assuming that Arthur would answer all of her questions and the family's. Walking into the house, I quickly ran into one of Mr. Weasley's children. It was a boy a little younger than me with black hair. Despite the age difference, he and I matched up in stature fairly similar, both of us being skinnier than average at least. I asked him, "Do you know where I can find a shower?"

The boy answered with a yes and led me to a bathroom. We talked a little bit… about the weather. Apparently he gardened a lot. Eventually, we made it to a bathroom that was unoccupied, and awkwardly asked, "Do you know who I am?"

I was confused and answered, "Yes. You're Ron, right?" Turns out Mr. Weasley did not inform me that all of his children had red hair and that they sometimes housed one of Ron's friends, Harry Potter, who is supposed to be well known in the wizarding community. I walked into the bathroom and started taking a shower. That's the emotions hit me, grief from losing Magdalene, happiness from escaping, fear of the uncertain future that lies before me.

I shed some tears.

Arthur explained to his wife that his sister Augusta had born a child, Nova, but after Augusta's death, her husband sought to not interact with the Weasley families anymore and to flee to America with Nova. Unfortunately, he recently passed in an accident, so Nova had reached out to her uncle, Arthur, for support. After explaining, they went inside the burrow.

When they walked in, Harry and Hermione sat in the living room with Ron discussing the two teams that were playing in the Quidditch World Cup, but it was more like Ron telling them about the different teams and who he thought would win. Turns out, the Weasley family had pulled together enough money to buy tickets for the family, Hermione, and Harry.

Eventually I finished taking a shower, so I carefully stepped out and found some clothes that had, hopefully, magically appeared inside the bathroom. I hope that they were magically transported into the bathroom. The idea of someone coming into the bathroom without me noticing and placing down some clothes was just too disturbing. No matter how much Magdalene trusted Mr. Weasley, I still needed to be on my guard. After I dried myself, I put on what I assumed to be Ginny's old clothes. Despite me being older than her, the clothes weren't too loose or tight. I know my physical growth was probably stunted forever due to the lack of nutrition, exercise, or sunlight I experience for the majority of my life in captivity, so that's probably why I was able to fit in her old clothes. Once I was finished getting dressed, I left the bathroom and went to the living room.

The living room was a quaint area of the house. Well loved, comfy couches and chairs were spread around the room, and the lighting was a soft orange. Despite the many children occupying the room playing a game that exploded every so often, it was the most peace I've felt in forever. I sat down in a chair. At that moment, Mr. Weasley announced to the group, "Kids, this is your cousin, Nova. She'll be staying with us for a while." When he mentioned that, I realized we never talked about when I would need to head out and keep travelling. Preoccupied in what I was thinking, I missed part of the conversation, including the kids' names. My thoughts of the future and therefore impending doom, were interrupted by the girl with brown, bushy hair.

"What's Ilvermorny like?" she questioned. The girl had a weird look on her face like I was being interrogated for any lies. Maybe she already saw through them and wanted me to confirm her suspicions. She probably hates me already. This girl might already know I'm not from Earth or that I'm not a witch. Maybe she was the one that brought in my clothes and saw my necklace laying out on the counter that was now neatly pressed against my skin under a layer of clothing.

I didn't know how to reply. "I forgot to mention that Nova was homeschooled," Mr. Weasley answered after a few seconds had passed by, saving me the difficulty of answering. Hopefully, that answer would relieve some suspicion.

Another kid asked a question, but it wasn't directed at me, rather about me. "Is she coming with us to the Quidditch World Cup?"

"I don't see why not, there's no need for Nova to be hanging out at home by herself when she could come with," Mr. Weasley said and looked at me. I nodded.

Mrs. Weasley added on, "I'm giving my ticket to Nova. I need to get started on school shopping for all of you." I briefly wondered if Mrs. Weasley knew about who I really was. I needed to ask Mr. Weasley if he did tell her. "You guys will be heading to Hogwarts right after, and I don't think we'll have time inbetween to go shopping. Besides, I'm not particularly fond of Quidditch."

Mr. Weasley checked his watch and announced, "Speaking of which, we should be off. The portkey will be leaving in thirty minutes, and we still need to actually get to it." With that, he kissed his wife on the check, and we left that night to whatever the Quidditch World Cup was.

**Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy! What do you think? Should Nova make friends with the trio? What will happen at the Quidditch World Cup? What are Nova's legacies or does she have legacies? Why was Mrs. Weasley really willing to part ways with tickets to such an important event? Does she know the truth about Nova?**


	4. Chapter 4: Camping Trips

Chapter 4: Camping Trips

**Author's Note: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Honestly, I've been trying to piece together how this chapter would go for a while, and I finally got an idea I genuinely liked. Anyways, I clearly do not own Lorien Legacies or Harry Potter. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.**

\--Page Break--

We arrived to the portkey which was located on Stoatshead Hill. To the side of me, I heard Arthur Weasley explaining portkeys and why we were using them instead of apparating. I didn't care to pay attention. Now I wish I would've taken notes. We still had a couple of minutes before the portkey would move us when an older man and presumably his son apparated. It appeared Mr. Weasley knew the two, and they ended up having some small chat.

I turned to the girl with bushy hair, Harmony, I think, and asked her, "So what is Quidditch?" Unfortunately at that time, Mr. Weasley's and the others' conversation died down. Everyone in the near vicinity heard me.

The other man who arrived earlier laughed. "You must be kidding? I know you're homeschooled and American, but I didn't know you would be this oblivious!" He decided to add on, "Arthur, are you sure this one is your niece? I mean, she doesn't even look like a member of your family." His companion looked embarrassed, but it was true. I am clearly not cacasian like the Weasleys.

Mr. Weasley looked at his pocket watch, pointedly ignoring the other man's statement and my question about Quidditch. "I believe the portkey should be transporting us soon, so everyone make sure you are touching the portkey." All of us made sure to make contact with a dirty, brown boot, which was the portkey. In a couple of seconds, we were whisked away to a new location where the Quidditch game was.

\--Page Break--

Turns out the Quidditch game was taking place at a normal campground, or as the wizarding world would put it, a muggle campground. Once we arrived, Mr. Weasley put the boot in a pile of other random things like lockets, hats, pans, which were probably other portkeys that were used. Afterwards, we walked around the campground until Mr. Weasley stopped at a campsite. "This looks to be the spot!" he announced, as he plopped down his bag. I looked around. It was a cleared out area in the middle of a forest, and there were a few other campsites nearby.

After a couple of minutes, the campsite was set up. On the outside, the tent appeared to be a regular muggle tent that would have a max capacity of maybe 3 people, but inside it had multiple "rooms" and was already decorated with little lights streamed around. Outside was a grill, but I doubted we would be using it considering… magic. Off to the side were some logs for people to sit around, which were being occupied by Hermione, Ron, and Harry. I had finally started learning people's names. Now after setting up, there wasn't much to do. I kind of just stood around thinking. There were too many questions that I had and not enough answers or even ways to answer them. My main question, "Am I even safe where I am right now? The Mogadorians could still find me." My second question, "How will I meet up with the rest of the Garde?" The Garde being the other 9 kids to escape the attack on Lorien. I took a deep breath. I'll have to answer these one day, but maybe not today. I hope.

Eventually, Mr. Weasley announced that we should start heading over to the game.

\--Page Break--

The Quidditch game took place in a stadium with wizards and witches wearing red and green. Red representing Bulgaria and green representing Ireland, the two teams that were competing for the Quidditch World Cup. After wandering around for a while, we sat in our seats to watch the game. People flew around the stadium on broomsticks chasing around different items, and it was interesting to watch. Specifically, it was interesting to watch the audience. They had so much enthusiasm and looking at Harry, I could see that this was more than a game. He was watching the game like a child in a candy store, like hands pressed against the glass, eyes wide, and the hope of getting the exact candy you want. It was an experience. Sure the game was interesting too, but honestly the rules made little sense. Hermione had explained the game to me while we were looking around, thank goodness. Haha. The thing about the experience was… it felt normal.

I remember when I was seven years old, Magdalene brought me to a baseball game. It's one of the only good memories I have of us now. We were living in Colorado at the time, and a couple of my classmates at school were talking about going to Rockies games and how much fun it was. I remember watching T. V. shows where these normal, happy families see sports games together, having fun, laughing, and I wanted a part of that. Naturally, I begged Magdalene if we could go to a game, and eventually on my birthday, she surprised me with tickets.

I was so excited back then. We did the whole nine yards. We got dippin dots, baked pretzels, and soda. It was amazing, and I don't even remember who won. It was so normal. I felt like Magdalene and I were a normal family, one that wasn't constantly running away from danger. I miss… everything from that moment, the people cheering for the game, the food, the heat of the sun beating down on us... Magdalene.

I felt tears running down my cheeks and quickly excused myself to the bathroom, making sure to cover my face.

After a couple of minutes, I returned to watch the rest of the game. The game ended when Victor Krum, the seeker of the Bulgarian team had caught the snitch, and I could tell that people were confused. He had cost the game. If his team made a couple of more points, then they could've won. Of course, Ron wouldn't shut up about it on the way back to the campsite. Haha.

Back at the campsite, it was lively. People were partying. Ron went on and on about Victor Krum. "He's not just an athlete. He's an artist," Ron announced while standing on top of a table which was being circled by the twins and Ginny chanting Ireland's praises. We continued to celebrate, until it was cut short by screaming outside of the tent.

"Wow, some of the Irish are having fun," laughed one of the twins, but I didn't think those were cries of happiness.

My suspicions were confirmed when Arthur Weasley barged in panicked. "We need to leave immediately. Everyone stick together. George, you're in charge of Ginny."

Thus, we left. Outside there was mass chaos. Everyone was running and screaming. "It's the death eaters! Run!" a high pitched voice filled with despair warned. Our group rushed to the portkey. Already, we got seperated. They were no longer in sight. I felt someone grab my shoulder roughly, and I turned around. It was one of the hooded, masked people that were setting everything on fire and attacking people. It must be one of the death eaters. I wondered if they could feel my heart beating. The death eater laughed, still holding on to my shoulder.

The death eater's grip was tight, so I used one of my recently developed legacies. I created a force field around us, then another one, just around the death eater. A couple of people watched in horror as the force field started shrinking in on the death eater. The death eater kept screaming in agony. I felt their body's resistance to the force field crushing of them. Their bones were snapping. I needed to stop. I couldn't. I remembered this feeling when I escaped imprisonment by the Mogadorian. Desperate. But I wasn't just desperate, I was enraged. I needed to let go. I cannot be a monster. I can't take anymore lives, no matter how I feel. I needed to let this death eater go. I dropped both force fields and ran off.

Then, appearing in the sky was a cloudlike green skull with a snake popping it's head out of the mouth. I heard commotion off to the far left of me, which typically I would stay far away from just cause I'm not insane, but of course it seemed like Hermione was involved, as I could hear her voice. As I approached, I picked up on the conversation. Hermione was upset about an elf being fired? I was confused. Mr. Weasley had also made it to the group, and when he noticed I had appeared, he seemed relieved. Soon, Mr. Weasley ushered us back to the tent where the rest of the family must've been.

At the tent, Harry demanded to know what the sign in the sky was. Good, I wasn't the only clueless person around here.

"You see, those were death eaters," Mr. Weasley explained. "Whenever they kill, they leave behind that mark in the sky. It's called the Dark Mark. Now then, you all should be going to sleep. We have to get to the portkey in a matter of a few hours."

I headed back to my bed area and laid down. I thought about what happened, and I didn't get any sleep that night. Sure, there was the fear of the death eaters, but what about the specific death eater that I almost crushed to death. They might tell the others. Furthermore, I almost crushed a person to death. Am I that desensitized to death? That I would so willingly kill? Then again, I didn't actually kill him, right? What happens if he did die?


End file.
